Am I Special?
by The Gina Marie Staytion
Summary: Jon Snow doesn't know who his parents are, or why they gave him to a ragtag group of Wildlings when he was an infant. Jon grew up with these people, but he always knew he didn't belong with them. When the Men of the Nights Watch show up at his village he begins to unravel the story of why he was abandoned, who his real parents are, and what to do now that he knows who he really is.


**"Am I Special?"**

Jon hadn't always known that his uncle was lying to him—about being a Wildling, about Jon being his nephew, and about his parents. His real parents. It wasn't hard to figure out, seeing as every single one of his "relatives" had flaming red hair while Jon had hair as black as a raven. But even still, Jon hadn't pieced it together until one of the other boys in his village told him he was stupid to think he was really part of his red-haired "family," that he was probably someone's bastard that they threw out into the snow because they didn't want to look at his ugly black hair for the rest of their lives. Jon had immediately pushed the kid to the ground and gotten in a few good punches while yelling at him to shut his mouth before his uncle pulled him off of the boy. Jon had been able to ignore the boys' hurtful words for a few days, but he couldn't help thinking that maybe the boy had a point. Jon didn't fit in with his family, he didn't think like the rest of his family, and he certainly didn't look like the rest of his family. Every night, Jon would lie in his bed and wonder about his real family, and why his uncle had lied to him all these years.

He was imagining what his room would look like if he was a highborn and lived in a castle one night when his cousin, Ygritte, interrupted his reverie.

"Why do you always go to bed before everyone else?" she asked, flopping down on the ground next to Jon's bed.

Jon sighed, sitting up in his bed. He didn't like lying to his cousin, but she asked so many questions that he lied almost on instinct now.

"Because I don't enjoy drinking half the night and waking up with a headache every day," he said.

"Neither do I," replied Ygritte, "but I also don't enjoy being alone all the time like you."

He rolled his eyes at her, lying back down on his bed and folding his hands under his head before he said "It's not my fault that all anyone wants to do is drink and… do it."

"Oh, you're just jealous because none of the girls are interested in you and your black hair," Ygritte said, rustling his hair, causing it to fall over his eyes.

"Yeah…" Jon said as he nudged a dark curl from in front of his eyes.

Ygritte saw how his face fell at the mention of his dark, unruly hair and immediately backpedaled, saying "You know I'm just kidding. The majority of the young girls and half of the older ones would jump at the chance to spend the night in your bed," giving him a sly wink.

Jon blushed, not liking the fact that he and his cousin were discussing what happened in the bedroom with each other. Ygritte laughed at how uncomfortable Jon looked and continued.

"If you would loosen up and have a few cups of wine every now and then you'd know exactly what I'm talking about," causing Jon to blush an even darker shade of red.

With that, Ygritte stood up, wiping the dirt off her backside with one hand and reaching for the candle beside Jon's bed with the other. She picked it up, careful not to distinguish it, and strode towards the flaps of Jon's tent.

"Hey, Ygritte?" she heard Jon say behind her, "Why is it, do you think, that I have the blackest hair in the whole village but not a single person in our family shares that trait with me?"

Ygritte turned, paused, and then said softly "Because the Gods knew you were special."

Before Jon could protest, Ygritte flitted out of his tent, taking the only light source with her and plunging Jon into darkness. He rolled over, thinking about what Ygritte had just said, about him being special. He didn't know who his parents were—his real parents, not the ones his uncle had been telling him about since he was a boy—but he always imagined that they were highborn, maybe even the Lord and Lady of a city. Did that mean he really could be special?

The thought kept him up well into the night, long after all the drunken men had stopped drinking long enough to realize what time it was and stumble back to their tents. When Jon heard footsteps approaching his tent he thought maybe it was someone going to take a piss, but was quickly proved wrong as his uncle opened the flaps of his tent.

"Jon, wake up," he said, not being able to see in the darkness that Jon was still wide awake.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked as he slipped out from under his fur covers and searched for the boots he had left beside his bed.

"Nothing," said his uncle "just get up."

Jon's hands finally found the worn leather boots and yanked them on, hurrying after his uncle, who was leading him to a large tent that was used for large ceremonies and weddings. Just before his uncle opened the flaps of the large tent, he turned to Jon and said "I haven't told anyone that they were coming yet. I knew the men wouldn't like the idea of having to house and feed any more people, but we need their help. I wasn't expecting them to arrive for another fortnight, but they said they couldn't wait any longer. They said the danger was too great for them to sit by and do nothing for another minute." Jon's uncle paused and looked around nervously before continuing. "People won't be happy that I agreed to this behind their backs. They'll want to force these men to leave. I can't let that happen. I need your help with keeping the peace, and in order to do that I need you to know the whole story." His uncle then lifted the flaps of the tent and walked in, Jon trailing a few seconds behind him in confusion.

When Jon walked in he froze, knowing instantly who these men were and why people wouldn't be happy that they were here.

They were the Men of the Nights Watch.

They were Southerners.

They were the Wildlings enemies.


End file.
